Dr., Dr., Give Me The News

I consider myself a pretty healthy person. I am vegan. I jog/walk 5 or more miles a day. I (mostly) make things from scratch instead of buying processed foods. I go to therapy for mental health.

Pretty healthy, right?

A couple weeks ago I went to the eye doctor.
"Your eyes have stayed the same." she proclaimed.
"Really? This is the first time ever that my eyes haven't changed." I was giddy!
"Well, you are ol... I mean, at a certain point, around your age, it's normal."
Horrified, I was. Old? She stopped just short of saying I'm old? Wow.

A few days later, I was at my new OBGYN.
After the normal pleasantries, she said, "So, you are 28."
Then I heard a stranger with my voice say, "Yes." Like, it was normal. Automatic.
My mind questioned this stranger, "Really? You are 28? How, when did this happen?"
We talked about the possibility of difficulties and dangers of getting pregnant. That, with my health history and age, I should do it sooner rather than later, if it is something my husband and I want. It was then that my mind caught up with the stranger, and slowly accepted that "Wow, I am an adult and my age is ever advancing and with age comes physical changes even if my mind and heart are still 5 years young. I have some serious choices to make."

Sitting in bed with the diagnosis of Bronchitis that has come after two weeks of coughing non-stop, I've been sewing itty bitty things for itty bitty babies that my friends will be bringing into this world soon and feeling nothing but joy. Then I heard it, a faint whisper of hope, a baby's cry, "I'm coming. Just ask for me, pray for me and you could be my mom."

I may be getting older, but my life isn't over. In fact, I could still be immortalized by a child if I wish, if I chose, if I pray... and I may.